


Once Upon a Dream

by runesandrumors



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Illustrated Fic, M/M, calling any blue ink shippers out there, my kink is sappy love confessions and overused romance tropes, ngl this is gonna be really cheesy, not a crossover with batim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22613398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runesandrumors/pseuds/runesandrumors
Summary: Born from a divine bloodline, the brothers have been the Devil’s targets from the start. A botched rescue mission ends with their memories erased and their roles rewritten- Cuphead as the Devil’s top collector, and Mugman as a normal boy with two doting aunts (and an uncle). Years pass and Fate draws them together again. But left only with fractured memories and feelings, who’s to blame when they fall in love?[illustrated fic]
Relationships: Cuphead & Mugman (Cuphead), Cuphead/Mugman (Cuphead), Mugman/Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	1. Prologue

“So…was I right?”

“Yes, boss.”

_“We’ve got one.”_

.

.

.

When Cuphead first enters the casino, he does it quietly. 

He and his brother are too young for this place, as far as he knows, but then he is always too young to do much of anything he wants to do. There’s no thrill in playing safe, no fun in what’s appropriate, and not even the threat of Elder Kettle’s cane can temper his fingers when Cuphead gets _bored_. 

So when he learns of the Devil’s playground, it’s no surprise when he wants to play.

Mugman follows him, ever devoted… ever worried. Though he’s more than happy chasing butterflies near their home or reading books from Elder Kettle’s personal library, Mugman is always happiest with Cuphead, where he can be sure to keep him safe. 

After all, it’s not rare for Cuphead to get himself in trouble when his younger brother isn’t there to rein him in (and even then, it’s a struggle to reason with his reckless soul). Mugman may not share his brother’s thrill-seeking heart, but he is young and curious and Hell is not a place Elder’s books can show in pictures.

(But they describe it well- a cruel and sweltering prison- and Mugman swallows his own fears because there is no lifetime where he would ever leave his brother alone to such a fate.)

Cuphead tells him they are only there to watch, explore the place and see what all the fuss was about. Sneaking into the casino was one thing, but actually getting to gamble was a crapshoot. 

“C’mon Mugs. Even I know better than to try and con the Devil,” Cuphead smirks, “At least not with you around. You know Elder Kettle would whoop me good if I ever got my _precious_ baby brother in trouble.” 

Mugman rolls his eyes, about to whisper back a smart remark when a skeleton man pops his head under the table and drags them out by the back of their sweaters.

He lifts them up to eye level. “What are you kids slumming around here for?” he asks. 

Flustered, the brothers stutter and scramble for an excuse until the skeleton cuts them off with a boisterous laugh, dropping them down into the seats beside him.

“This is the Devil’s Casino, chumps. Nobody will bat an eye as long as you know how to play.”

.

.

.

_Elder Kettle would be so mad._

Mugman finds that the longer they stay, the less he cares.

The table the skeleton’s playing at is running a game of Craps- something that the brothers find themselves surprisingly good at. In fact, they are so good at it that the casino manager took over the table to introduce himself- shaking their hands as he applauds them on their success.

“Why if you keep this up, I reckon’ the boss himself may come down to congratulate you too!” King Dice smiles. Mugman supposes it is meant to be charming, but it only makes him uneasy, so he politely pulls away. Cuphead, blinded by greed, doesn’t seem to notice.

“Well you better tell him to hurry up, or we’ll be walking away with his whole casino in our pocket by the end of this game!”

King Dice laughs. Mugman tries to grin, but neither his brother’s confidence nor their audience’s cheers can quell the sudden sense of dread settling in his gut.

  


.

.

.

The Devil had come down, just as King Dice predicted. 

And even with his brother there, Cuphead found himself neck-deep and sinking in a river of rotten choices.

He rubs the rim of his head and glares up at King Dice, irritated at the smug smile he aims down at him.

“I’d get going if I were you. You only have until midnight tomorrow to get those contracts, after all,” King Dice reminds him with a sneer, “Straight to the debtors. If you even think about asking for help, there’ll be _immediate_ consequences.”

As if his task wasn’t daunting enough. 

“And remember, I’ll be watching you.” 

_Elder Kettle would be_ **_so mad_ ** _._

**.**

**.**

**.**

Rumor prides herself on many things.

The most important is order. Here in her hive, her workers follow her every command, inspired by the fruitful results her system provides them. They obey her because obeying her grants them not only stability but riches and rewards. She is queen of a kingdom that adores her; leader to an army that will follow her to battle.

Another is her magic. Though Inkwell is naturally imbued with magical energy, so few of its people know or even deign to use it. _It’s their loss,_ she thinks. Learning magic has helped offing other queen bees much easier. It’s worked wonderfully with maintaining order too.

The shield around her hive ripples, and she learns of her intruders.

_So he’s finally come._

Rumor alights from her throne and steps down to the hive, poised in the face of her possible death.

Another skill she prides herself on is diplomacy. After all, every good queen knows not all wars must end with bloodshed.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Cuphead yelps as he falls back against a platform, narrowly dodging an incoming missile. He hits the ground hard, and tenses when Rumor Honeybottoms descends from above.

She is massive- the shadow of her head alone engulfs him- but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. Cuphead steels himself and grabs the edge of the platform to throw himself down on the one below it. He swiftly takes aim as magic erupts from her hands.

Twin balls of energy shoot past him and into the walls of the hive. He instinctively shoots a Charge shot at her direction, but to his dismay, it misses. 

Rumor swoops to the side and shakes her head, just as the pillars of honey dripping around the hive begin to expand and close around them in a circle. Cuphead realizes he is trapped and curses.

“Calm down. This wasn’t meant for you,” Rumor explains, “It’s for him.”

“Who’s him?”

“Your pesky little shadow. I’m sure you know who I mean,” she grins, “Theoretically, this should block his view of our battle. Now we can talk, but we have to be quick. Surely he’ll be working to break through soon.”

Cuphead doesn’t relax, “What do you want? Unless you’re planning to hand over that contract right now, I’m not interested in talking.”

“I understand. You found yourself with all this trouble through a deal, didn’t you? I would know too- the Devil is far from a fair negotiator,” Rumor sighs, “But you’ll find that I am a gracious ruler. As you’ve seen, my workers are loyal. I treat them well, and they trust their lives with me in return.”

“I’m not one of your little worker bees,” Cuphead bites out.

“No, but you are a victim of the Devil, much like myself. You must understand, I wished for this magic to help my kingdom. If I traded in my soul, there would be no one to watch over my children. Our contract would have been worthless!” Rumor’s eyes darken, her teeth grinding. Cuphead sees it then-- the ferocity of a person who has something to protect-- but remains silent.

She continues, “Listen, child. There is a way to break these contracts without trading in your soul. It is difficult, but you will be in a prime position to do it. You must burn the contracts in Hell’s fires. It’s the only way for them to be destroyed. Other fires won’t even singe it.” Cuphead inclines his head, as though he’s paying attention, but Rumor can see the twitch in his hand.

She holds in her panic, “Of course, you must be able to get your own contract from the Devil beforehand. If you agree to help me, I can give you my contract and tell you the rest of my plan. There’ll be no need for you to fight anymore. Well?”

Cuphead only stares. Rumor sways impatiently as she feels the magic keeping King Dice away start to fizzle out.

Finally, he slaps his forehead and laughs.

“Gosh it’s the same ol’ story every time,” says Cuphead, “You talk a good game lady. Better than the others, I’ll give you that. If all I had to worry about was myself, you probably would have gotten me. Maybe.”

He aims at her again, fingers glowing red with power. Rumor reaches for her spellbook, resigned at the sudden dark and deep determination she sees in his face. Her magic weakens even more and the shield of honey begins to open like a curtain around them.

“Sorry but what I’ve got on the line is worth more than all your sob stories and my own damn soul combined.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Cuphead returns to the casino, he doesn’t do it quietly.

“Well, well, well…”

The Devil smirks at the shifting lights under his door, at the sound of snapping fingers and breaking glass. He smirks at the destruction he can not only hear, but _feel_ , utterly wrathful and desperate in its haste to get to him.

He smirks when the gates to his throne room open, and Cuphead strides in like he isn’t facing the Devil himself.

Not even Hell’s flames can compare to the fire and brimstone in his eyes.

“Look how far you’ve come.”

“I did what you asked for!” Cuphead shouts, “Now pay up!” His hands are trembling with adrenaline, finger glowing blue with power as the Devil only laughs at him.

“Don’t snap your cap, boy. I ain’t quite done with you yet,” he sneers, unfazed when Cuphead growls at him, “I have to say, I’m impressed! I knew there was something special about you two but I wasn’t expecting this kinda performance,” He nods his head towards the sack clutched in Cuphead’s left hand and cackles, “You’re a natural!”

Cuphead knows he should feel guilty, but now that he is so close to his goal, he feels nothing but impatience and rage. Devil notes this, and smiles to himself in satisfaction.

“Of course, I was probably right to give you that extra bit of motivation.”

The Devil snaps his fingers and Cuphead flinches back at the loud and sudden sound of chains falling from above. A large, golden cage hits the ground and sends flames licking at his skin, but he doesn’t feel it, no. His eyes are immediately drawn to the figure curled in the cage, eyes shut tight from the unexpected fall.

Here is the reason he has fought so hard.

“Mugs!” he croaks. 

Mugman lifts his head, dizzy from the impact, “Huh?” 

Cuphead staggers closer and Mugman’s eyes flit to him, face suddenly sharp and bright with joy and relief, “Cuphead!”

“Don’t worry! I’m getting you out of here-” Without a warning, the Devil pins Cuphead in place with his trident, halting his words.

“Why don’t you give me my contracts _first?”_

“Contracts?” Mugman echoes, brows furrowed in confusion. Cuphead grits his teeth at the question and his fist clenches around the drawstring bag in his grip. The trident around his neck glows with heat and power. He can barely feel it through his porcelain skin, but the slowly dawning horror in his brother’s eyes is enough to still him.

The Devil doesn’t let him explain, “Come now, don’t give him that look. They were damned from the start! Your brother did them a favor by dealing with them before I could.” 

He pauses, allowing the silence between the brothers to grow suffocating before he breaks it.

“Of course, according to King Dice, I might not have done anything worse than you already did, huh kid?”

Cuphead sucks in a sharp breath, and the Devil smirks.

“No,” Mugman murmurs, “Tell me you didn’t, Cuphead.” 

Cuphead flinches when he meets his eyes, bright and blue with sorrow. He doesn’t know how to tell his brother how little he found himself caring for others (for _friends_ ) at knowing _he_ was in danger.

_Especially when it’s always my fault you get hurt. Again and again._

Mugman would call him selfish. 

_And he’d be absolutely right._

“I did what I had to do,” he mumbles back. 

The Devil clicks his tongue, “Enough with the pity party. I asked you a question, boy, and I’m not a patient person. _Where are my contracts?_ ”

“Let Mugman go!” Cuphead shoots back, “I want to see you hold up your end of the deal first, especially after that smarmy lackey of yours tried to kill me when I got back here!”

“I can’t help the fact that good-for-nothing car decoration is a sore loser,” The Devil jeers, “And you’ve got a lot of nerve trying to demand something out of me! I’m already doing you a courtesy by asking. If you don’t cough up those contracts, I’ll just take your sniveling brother’s head off right now!”

Mugman glares up at the Devil, but Cuphead immediately falls silent at the threat.

“Fine,” he relents, holding up the bag. 

Mugman chokes back a protest. He knows his brother. Despite what others may think of him, Cuphead is mischievous, not malicious. Fighting those people must’ve gnawed at Cups, but he did it for him. Pulled through for him.

Because Mugman was too weak to defend himself again.

_I have no right to judge you._

The Devil hooks his claw around the drawstring and hauls the bag away, “Attaboy.” 

He snaps his fingers and the cage melts back into the ground. Mugman instantly runs into his brother’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” he cries into Cuphead’s chest. His older brother clutches the back of his shirt and shakes his head.

“What are you talking about, you goof? I’m the one who should be sayin’ sorry!” Cuphead sniffles and laughs forcibly, “Though I’m pretty lousy at doin’ that, aren’t I? You’ll just have to teach me on our way back, and maybe Elder Kettle won’t lock me in the cupboard for longer than a month.”

Mugman giggles, but Cuphead can still hear the light _‘clinking’_ sound of his knees shaking and hitting each other. He takes his brother firmly by the arms and starts walking him to the door.

“Come on, Mugs. Let’s blouse.”

Before they can take another step, large gold pillars erupt from the ground and encase them in a small golden cage. It’s even smaller than the one that held Mugman, so the brothers are forced to kneel to avoid hitting their heads. They look up in confusion as the Devil lets out a loud booming laugh.

“What’s the big idea?!” Cuphead grabs at the bars and shoves his face up to snarl at him, “I did everything you asked, so what are we still doing here?!”

“You two saps walked into a trap, that’s what,” the Devil leans forward and gleefully bares his teeth back, “The minute you waltzed into my casino, your souls were mine! Sure, it was a pleasure to get back the rest of those ungrateful welchers, but you two were always the main targets. And now, it’s _curtains_ for you!”

“That’s a load of malarkey!” Mugman suddenly shouts. 

Cuphead jolts. If anyone is getting popped for mouthing off, he doesn’t want it to be his baby brother.

“Mugs-” he tries to shoulder him back, but Mugman just brushes him off.

“If you really just wanted us dead, why go through all this trouble with the debtors? What was stopping you from just taking our souls when we lost the game?”

“What do you know? The other one’s got moxie too!” The Devil chortles, “Tell you what, kid. I’m in an awful’ good mood right now so I’ll tell you and your brother a little bedtime story before yer big sleep. You ever heard of angels?”

Cuphead and Mugman glance at each other, perplexed.

“No,” Cuphead replies. He sidles closer to his brother, silently proud at the turn of events he’d brought them. Maybe if they let the Devil beat his gums long enough, he can come up with an escape plan.

“Once upon a time,” the Devil drawls mockingly, “An angel walked the earth and fell in love with a mortal.”

_Against all the laws of Heaven, the angel and the mortal bore fruit from their love. The child was a nephilim-- the first of its kind. Its blood was half-divine, and it carried the ability to battle anyone that had demonic powers._

_The angel was immediately stripped of its wings… but their bloodline remained holy. Every firstborn child in the generation carried Heaven’s mark and was blessed with the powers of a nephilim._

_Soon, the nephilim formed a society known as the “Calix Amini”. They fought off demons and spread the word against their influence to defend their homes. They were heroes. They were cherished. They were beloved._

_However, the war between the nephilims and demons would soon take an ironic twist._

Despite the situation, Mugman finds himself intrigued. The story reminds him of the fairytales in Elder Kettle’s collection-- his favorite kinds. 

_The nephilims were created when an angel fell in love with a mortal._

_The Devil was released when a nephilim fell in love with a demon._

_She was young, hopeful and hopelessly smitten. The demon loved her naivety and convinced her he loved her all the way to the guillotine._

_He used her blood to forge a key and opened the gates to Hell._

_The Calix Amini suffered. Their numbers were already low and they steadily dwindled under the Devil’s reign. He ravaged the land with his demons and murdered many of the nephilims, including their families. He knew that if he left any of them alive, more nephilims could be born. They had to be wiped out._

_After all, Heaven wouldn’t stop him. Humanity was made to save itself._

_Thankfully, the nephilims formed a plan._

_First, they would use their blood to remake a key, and lock the Devil back into Hell._

_But they knew that even if he was cast back down, his demons would remain._

_So they sacrificed their bodies to create a cage within the gates of Hell._

_To help lock the Devil in, they called on the greatest hero in their midst:_

_The Legendary Chalice._

_It worked. After a long and tortuous battle, Chalice locked the Devil and his demons in the cage and closed back the gates of Hell with the key. Then, using the last of her power, Chalice split the land holding Hell away from the rest before succumbing to her injuries._

_Years later, settlers would find the land and call it home. It would be named “Inkwell Isles”, after its founding family._

_And many more years later, on the far east side of the island, a greedy young man would find himself walking past the gates of Hell to open up the Devil’s cage in search of glory and riches._

_“Bring me ten souls,” the Devil purrs to him, “Ten souls and I will fulfill your every desire.”_

_The young man brings him nine other people._

_“These are my workers. My family,” he says, “They have agreed to your terms and offer you their souls. Without our business, they mean nothing to them!”_

_“And where is the tenth?”_

_“He stands here before you,” replies the young man as he holds out his soul contract._

_The Devil is pleased._

_“This should be enough.”_

_In a flash, the cage around the Devil shatters into bone-white dust. With a swish of his tail, it scatters into the wind and not a single trace of his prison is left behind. From his shadow, numerous demons begin to crawl out onto the ground, snarling and leering at the mortals before them._

_Left with no barriers between them and these monsters, King Dice wonders if he has made the right choice._

_“Now how should I repay you lot?” the Devil wonders aloud as he rubs his chin theatrically._

_Snapping his fingers, he summons his trident into his hands and slams it down into the ground._

_In what feels like less than a minute, a gleaming, ritzy casino towers above them and makes its place in Hell._

_“Listen up! You’ll be working for me from now on, starting at this casino! You’ll get all the fame and fortune you’ll ever want, but in return, I want you to hook more souls into creating a contract with me, got it?”_

_“Why do you need more souls? You’re already out of the cage,” asks one of the debtors, a raggedy little rabbit. The Devil shoots him a dirty look and he stumbles, “C-Course you’ll get anything you want, boss!”_

“The soul contracts…” interrupts Cuphead, “They give you power?”

“Hah!” the Devil sniggers as Cuphead glowers back at him, “Boy! Souls _are_ power. They’re the whole reason you live and if you’ve got any ounce of magic in you, it’ll be coming from your soul.”

“Right,” Cuphead crosses his arms. He curls back against the cage, eyes distant as if he’s already grown bored of the conversation.

“You broke the cage, but not the gates,” Mugman wonders aloud, “You needed more power to get through the gates, didn’t you?”

“Now you’re on the trolley,” The Devil buffs his claws against his fur, seemingly content to let Mugman fill in the story, “Those rotten gates were built just for me. Everyone else could come and go as they please, but I was stuck relying on demons to do my dirty work outside. Dice and his court of grifters did manage to get the yahoos rolling in, but then too many got away. I almost regretted wiping out the nephilim once I started nickel-and-diming my way back to freedom,” He flicks his fingers one by one, rolling his eyes, “But when you’re fighting a war, there’s no reason for mercy. I just _had_ to kill them all.”

The brothers startle as he suddenly turns to them with a grin.

“So imagine my surprise when I feel a _nephilim_ walking around Inkwell Hell.”

“What are you talking about?” asks Cuphead, “I thought you wiped them all out?” 

The Devil smirks, “Trust me, kid. Up until yesterday, I thought I did too.”

Still confused, Cuphead feels Mugman squeeze his hand so he turns back to face him. He smiles, ready to assuage any fears he may have.

Instead, Mugman gazes back at him contemplatively, eyes alight with intent. Despite their close quarters, Cuphead can hardly pick up the soft murmur of _“Mark?”_ that comes from Mugman as his brother lifts the hem of his sweater up to his neck.

He sputters and tries to pull away, but Mugman’s grip is surprisingly tight, “Mugs, what are you doing?!”

Mugman softly presses his hand above Cuphead’s heart, palm flat against the vague shape of a wing that has been there since his birth, and looks up at him with a mix of fear and resignation.

Without turning his head, he speaks to the Devil.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

It’s like a slap to the face. Immediately, Cuphead understands.

The Devil grins.

“At least we know you’re the smart one, kid.”

Mugman pulls away and lets Cuphead’s sweater fall back down. 

Though he tries to keep it steady, Cuphead hears the warble in his brother’s voice, “You said the gates can be unlocked with nephilim blood. Does it have to come from a nephilim? Will blood from the same family work?” Mugman’s voice cracks at the end, his eyes welling up with tears. Alarmed, Cuphead pulls him close and Mugman sags in his arms like a puppet whose strings have been cut. He looks up at Cuphead, his hand clenched tightly in the fabric above his heart as he pleads, “Please! Isn’t there anyone else?!”

“Mugs…”

The Devil yawns, “Oh, tone down the theatrics. His blood isn’t that valuable to me yet.” Puzzled, Mugman holds back his tears and peers up at him, “Don’t worry. Your brother’s got about another eight years before I even think about draining him.”

“What, does it gotta age like wine before you take a drink outta me?” sneers Cuphead.

“Something like that,” Demons begin to crawl out from the fires around them, creeping closer to the cage, “See, nephilims got one more trick up their sleeves. Once they reach adulthood, their blood becomes fully divine. They become angels.”

Lazily spinning his trident, the Devil watches as the brothers inch closer together, away from the bars of the cage.

“And an angel’s blood is the only thing that can unlock the gates to Hell.”

He swings his trident and the cage splits into two.

Cuphead yelps as he is pulled towards the Devil, close enough to see the malice and glee in his eyes.

“You better get comfortable, kid, because you’ll be staying here for a while. But don’t worry. When I start cleaning up your memories, I’ll be sure to erase any little thing that could make you homesick. Starting with that brother of yours.”

Cuphead spins back, drawn immediately by Mugman’s scream. He watches in horror as the cage around his brother melts and twists into chains, leaving him vulnerable to the demons that circle him.

“You know the rules,” says the Devil, “No survivors. Don’t want more of you running around after this.”

Face suddenly blank, Cuphead asks the Devil, “You really think I’m just another dupe, don’t you?”

The Devil hums noncommittally.

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“I don’t think you heard me kid. I wiped out almost all the nephilim long ago, and that’s back when they actually knew who they were and what they were doing. What makes you think I’d be afraid of you?”

“Oh I heard you,” Cuphead replies smoothly, “And I think you should be. I know you saw everything your lackey saw and now I know why you sent me on that quest instead of him or your demons.”

He grabs the bars of the cage, and to the Devil’s surprise, rips it apart.

“So, you’re a little stronger than I thought. That’s not going to matter in a minute!” The Devil flicks his wrist and tries to summon the soul contracts in his hand. Cuphead and Mugman’s contracts appear but the rest remain in the bag. Confused, he rips the bag with a claw and empties it into his palm.

Inside he finds King Dice and his lackeys’ soul contracts.

“You really think I was just gonna give in and do whatever you asked after you cheated us yesterday?” taunts Cuphead, “Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, Devil? You pay the price.”

He takes advantage of the Devil’s shock and grabs their contracts, shoving them into his pocket. He jumps down before he can catch him, finger already charged and poised to shoot as he hits the ground around the demons. The force of the Charge shot shatters the ground and forms a dense fog that frazzles the demons as they scatter away from their prey, leaving enough space for him to dash to his brother.

Mugman coughs and shuts his eyes from the smoke, but leans in obediently to his chest, instinctively aware that it’s Cuphead grabbing and breaking the chains around him.

The Devil gets over his shock and snarls, the fires of Hell billowing in his rage.

“After them!” He yells, sending the demons back on their heels as he aims his trident at the brothers.

With a snap, Cuphead summons a Chaos Orbit and sends it around his brother as he sprints and drags him to the exit. Mugman watches in fascination as the little green stars around his head dart around to catch the fireballs that fly too close to him. 

_Like tiny moving shields,_ he thinks.

Meanwhile, Cuphead struggles to dodge the fireballs on his own- his powers and attention divided. The demons chasing them on the ground are joined by flying ones, making it more difficult to protect them both.

Thankfully, fighting the debtors did wonders for his quick-thinking and agility.

As the last of the stars fade around Mugman, Cuphead shoots another Charge shot at a pillar to their left. It collapses, taking down some of the flyers and blocking the path of the demons after them.

Cuphead laughs, exhilarated as they reach the exit, and Mugman joins him. They are so close to freedom. To writing this off as yet another crazy (dangerous) misadventure.

They stop as the doors are thrown open, the way blocked by a familiar menacing figure.

King Dice glares down at them, spidery cracks running down his head.

“End of the line, boys.”

Quick as a whip, Cuphead feels something wrap tightly around his waist. Before he can be pulled away again, he jams the contracts into his brother’s hands and summons another Chaos Orbit around Mugman, scaring away the demons that had tried to grab him. Immediately after, the Devil reels him back with his tail and Cuphead finds himself dangling back in front of him.

The Devil scowls, “Nice try, kid. Now give me the contracts.”

King Dice closes the doors behind him and watches grimly.

“I’m not giving you anything,” spits Cuphead.

The Devil looks over at Mugman thoughtfully, watching the demons flinch away from the sharp points of the green stars still guarding him fiercely. “You know, once I rewrite your memories, I’ll just make you drop that barrier and kill him yourself. How’s that sound?”

The stars around Mugman briefly falter as Cuphead shudders.

“Y-You’re bluffing,” he answers defiantly, “You’d need the contracts to do something like that ‘cause you’re weak. You can’t do anything without them!”

A gleeful smile, thirsty for blood, curls around the Devil’s lips.

“I’ve fought your kind numerous times, boy. I know all of your tricks.”

Tossing his trident in the air, the Devil begins to chant a spell.

Cuphead screams as he suddenly falls, only to find himself caught and held by two buff demons. The trident spins slowly over his head and his eyes widen when he feels his soul liquid start to churn. Panicking, he tries to fight back but most of his magic is still powering the stars, so it’s all too easy for the Devil to pull the contracts out from his head.

Protected by the magic of his soul, they come out perfectly dry.

“No!” yells Cuphead. Dipping his head down, he sinks his teeth into one of the arms holding him, forcing the demon to yowl and let go. With one hand free, he quickly knocks the other demon in the jaw before using his body as a springboard to jump up towards the contracts.

Summoning a single Roundabout shot in his hand, he wraps the contracts inside the shot before tossing it across the room towards Mugman.

“Catch!” he shouts, just as the Devil slams him down into the ground under his palm. Mugman instantly reacts, sprinting towards the contracts.

The Devil lifts up his head and barks at King Dice, “Well don’t just stand there, you fool! Catch them!”

King Dice nods, eyes already trained on the incoming shot as he follows after Mugman.

_It’s strange though. If he really intended for his brother to catch it, why did he aim so high?_

The answer hits King Dice just as the shot arcs backwards.

“Boss, watch out! It’s a boomerang shot!” he yells.

Too late. The contracts speed past the Devil and behind his throne, straight into the fires of Hell.

A massive blue light erupts from the flames as the contracts ignite and the debtors’ souls are finally released.

Cuphead smiles as the Devil roars, infuriated.

_“You conniving little bastard!”_

“Cuphead!” shouts Mugman, still racing towards them.

“Come back here!” King Dice starts to chase him, only to collapse when the doors behind him are suddenly blown open.

Frothing with rage at his ruined plans, the Devil freezes when he looks up to see the two figures framed by the doorway.

“ _Chalice_ …”

“Grandpa!”

The Legendary Chalice floats into the room, flanked by a harried Elder Kettle. She responds, an edge in her voice as sharp as her spear.

“Devil. What an unpleasant surprise.”

“You and me both! I guess I didn’t do as swell of a job as I thought I did smoking you little rats out!” The Devil laughs, loud and hysterical. Still trapped under his palm, Cuphead can feel the shivers running up and down his body, doubtlessly shaken at the sight of the one who’d defeated him. No amount of showboating can hide it.

“Release my grandsons, you fiend!” Elder Kettle interjects, slamming his cane into the ground.

Chalice darts forward and brandishes her spear, “Do as he says, Devil!”

The Devil continues to laugh, “What a hoot! This day’s just gone completely off-track now. But it don’t matter. I know better than to put all my eggs in one basket, you rusted up oil can! _Dice_!”

His eyes go blank, eyes shining a brilliant gold as he summons all the energy he’d stored from the soul contracts in his collection. King Dice backs away, shutting the doors behind them as the ground crumbles and falls beneath their feet.

Chalice swears, unable to do much at her current state other than summoning a protective bubble. She wraps it around her and Elder Kettle, imploring Mugman to do the same.

“Hurry!” she cries, reaching her hand out to him. Mugman hesitates, peering back to see if he can find his brother under the Devil’s suddenly massive form.

“Mugman! Come here!” It’s much harder to ignore Elder Kettle’s voice, but Mugman does so easily, his attention caught completely at the sight of his brother crumpled under one of the Devil’s fingers.

“Cuphead!” he screams, leaping across the remains of the floor as they slowly descend into Hell. Cuphead looks up at the sound of his voice, trained all his life to react at the sound of his brother in distress, but he’s drained from the stress of the past two days and the loss of the contracts he’d been using as a power-up.

“Mugs,” he chokes out, growing steadily dizzier as Hell grows hotter around them. Something foreign roots through his head, staining his soul liquid red, “Mugs!”

“Cuphead! Mugman!” Elder Kettle slams his hands against the bubble but Chalice holds it steady. She knows there is nothing to be done now.

Since they were born, Mugman has always wondered why his brother had powers and he didn’t. Elder Kettle had always told him it was just how genetics worked, that traits would often skip a generation.

He hadn’t minded much back then. Fighting was hardly a hobby of his, after all.

Now he wishes it were. 

Cuphead falls freely, his eyes struggling to stay focused as Mugman darts desperately across several fragments of the floor. His timid, bookish brother is jumping, running, and gliding through them seamlessly- as if he’d been doing it all his life.

Inside, he feels nothing but pride.

Finally, Mugman jumps out and grabs his hand but they slip, his fingers slipping free as gravity forces them apart.

Cuphead sees him crumble, his eyes brimming with tears as he howls after him in anguish. It’s the last thing he hears before the Devil’s influence overwhelms him, cutting off his senses as he willingly falls to the dark.

_“Brother!”_

__

.

.

.

_“Now remember Dice. If by whatever chance this doesn’t work, we still have a backup plan.”_

_“Of course, sir.”_

_“And don’t think it means you’ll be safe from me. I’ll still have your soul contract and I will damn you for eternity if I sense even a lick of betrayal coming from you.”_

_“I wouldn’t dream about it, boss. So we’ll be playing the long con again?”_

_“I’ve waited centuries to get out of Hell before._

_I can wait a little more.”_

.

.

.

King Dice hums, a hand curled around his chin as he surveys the unconscious body lying in front of him.

Around him, Hell has settled down, its fires lapping gently at the massive ruby-black egg where the Devil’s throne used to be.

“Now what to do with you?” he wonders, leaning down to grab Mugman’s shoulder and turn him on his back. He pauses, silent as he studies the wounds on his face- little chips and cracks running along his head.

“Look at that. We match.” King lifts his hand to his own face, fingers tracing the large crack running past his right cheek. Cuphead had gotten particularly more aggressive as he drew closer to his goal, “I guess we’ll call it even.”

He summons a portal beneath them and transports Mugman to the boundary of Inkwell Isle 1.

“See you in a few years, kid.”

.

.

.

“Oh my goodness. Don! Dolores! Come quick!”

“What is it Doris?”

“There’s a boy lying here unconscious. We’ve got to take him to a doctor!”

“Heavens, he looks so young.”

“What kind of sick crumbs would do this to a kid?”

“We’ll figure that out later. First we have to make sure he’s alright.”

“Darling, are you awake? Can you hear me?”

Mugman stirs as he feels something brush against his cheek, what feels like satin-gloved hands lifting and turning his head up. He whimpers as a wound on his side is jostled and a sweet, musical voice coos at him.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. This may hurt a bit, but we have to get you out of here.”

“Crackers, how’d you even end up all the way here, kiddo? Come on,” Mugman winces as he feels someone lift him into their arms. The pain sends tears springing to his eyes but he stubbornly tries to keep them at bay, biting his lip until he feels it bleed.

He feels someone gently wipe it off with their finger, “None of that, darling. We know it hurts. It’s alright to cry.” This voice is lower, but just as sweet. It reminds Mugman of a stately older lady.

“Yeah bucko. This ain’t the time to act strong now. You’ll be safe with us,” Mugman feels a rumble against his head, and deduces he is being held by the speaker. A man, warm and cheerful.

“Do you have a name, sweetie? We’ll need it for the doctor.”

“M-Mugman.”

“Thank you, Mugman. Now do you know where we can find your family? I’m sure they must be dreadfully worried right now.”

Mugman pauses for a long time.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know where they are?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t know,” Mugman begins to hyperventilate. As hard as he tries, everything is coming up blank.

“I don’t know,” he repeats.

_“I don’t remember anything at all.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah, it's finally finished! _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_  
> I worked really, really hard on this, so please leave a comment if you liked it! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡  
> also come follow me on [Tumblr](https://runesandrumors.tumblr.com/) for more content, or if you just wanna see my other drawings *:･ﾟ✧


	2. Scene 1, Blue Skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Blue Skies - Ella Fitzgerald (orig. Irving Berlin)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAa4teWb0rU)   
>  _Blue skies smilin' at me  
>  Nothin' but blue skies do I see_

Mugman always found Isle 1 the most beautiful island in all of Inkwell Isles.

Many people these days prefer to live on Isle 3, where the city continues to flourish with culture and innovation. Having lived there for seven years, Mugman does hold a special affection for the city, but something about Isle 1 had always called to an empty little space in his soul. 

Something in the way the grass tickles his feet, in the way he follows the butterflies in the fields… it all comes to tell him one thing.

_I used to live here._

Still, the knowledge is not enough to reveal more of his past. Countless inquiries about the people who used to live there lead to nowhere. The people that found him had practically bled their resources dry trying to find his family but everyone had told them the same thing.

No one on Isle 1, or all of Inkwell Isles, had reported a missing child.

He was abandoned.

It doesn’t hurt much. Not anymore. Mugman thanks his lucky stars every night for having been found by the kindest people he knows in Inkwell-- his newfound family _._

Despite the bitterness he should feel, Mugman still adores the tranquility of Isle 1, and delights in every chance he has to come here. Thankfully, his job makes that an almost weekly occurrence.

“So how’s the shop going?”

Cagney emerges from the trees, arms laden with a basket of freshly plucked flowers. Mugman looks up, broken from his thoughts, and takes the basket from him with a smile.

“It’s doing well, just like always,” he replies, “If you’d come visit like I keep asking you to, you might not have to keep asking me that.”

Cagney grimaces, much like Mugman expects, and waves his words away, “And have to deal with all that noise, smoke, and _people_? Why would I ever voluntarily choose that over this?” He gestures around his garden.

Mugman rolls his eyes, “Cagney, you know I love this place as much as you do-- sorry, _almost_ \-- but aren’t you even a little bit curious? There’s so many things in the city I know you haven’t seen yet, and I just know it’d help you with your garden. You could come up with new types of flowers, or ways to help them grow even better!”

“That’s what I have you and Doris for, isn’t it?”

“Well, don’t you want to experience it for yourself?”

“If I wanted to deal with all that, you’d be out of a job Mugman. Plus, I get enough of this argument from that busybody bee everytime she _deigns_ to visit,” Cagney grunts, his thorns popping out and back in like a bird with ruffled feathers. Still, he bends down and curls his stem around the tree Mugman is sitting in, allowing him to see Cagney eye-to-eye without craning his neck all day and getting cramps. It’s a familiar gesture, one that Mugman has grown to realize shows Cagney’s unspoken trust and affection for him, and he feels warmth settle in his chest.

Sometimes, Mugman thinks they must have been friends before he lost his memory. But just like everyone else in Inkwell, Cagney hadn’t recognized him at all.

“You know I could just work in the boutique with my family, Cagney,” Mugman reminds him, patting down the petal closest to his arm as Cagney grumbles under his hand, “It’s not like they’d reject the extra help.”

“Please, you know they’d just pay you to model clothes for them all day, and we both know how much you love doing that.”

Mugman flushes, “I never said I hated it. I wear what they make, don’t I?”

Cagney leans up and makes a show of studying his clothes, “You mean to tell me you wear that entire getup out in the city? You don’t just wear it here in the backwoods out of shame?” He sniggers as Mugman pouts and jokingly hits his arm.

“Can it, buster. You really want me to tell Aunt Doris what you’ve been saying about her clothes?” Mugman teases.

As expected, Cagney shudders, “No thank you. Spores, you’re becoming more of a little spitfire lately. You’d think after seeing less of that punk, you’d turn back to that sweet little angel you were as a kid.”

Mugman’s pout deepens, and gets just a bit fiercer, “He’s not a punk.”

The atmosphere between them shifts as Cagney realizes his mistake. He groans, “Christ, Mugman. I don’t want to have this conversation again. We both know how I feel about your boyfriend.”

“Really? Because every time he comes up in conversation, it seems like you always have something negative to say about him.” Cagney breathes in at the sour notes coloring Mugs’ voice, leaning back up to stare sternly at him.

“Well can you blame me? He works at the Devil’s nightclub for Pete’s sake. The Devil, Mugs! I’m sure your family’s already told you all the horror stories, but they don’t come close to the real thing. Anyone voluntarily working for him can’t be in their right mind!”

“Uncle Don always goes to the nightclub.”

Cagney rolls his eyes, “Of course he does.”

Mugman sighs, leaving his perch to lessen the height difference between him and Cagney.

“I know Cagney. I don’t want to have this conversation either, but you have to understand me too. I hear what people have to say about him all the time in the city, and so does he! He won’t even let us be seen on a date together in public because he doesn’t want to ruin my reputation, but _gosh darn it_ , I’m getting pretty sick of having to hide my steady!” Mugman throws his hands up, “Maybe for once in my life, I’d like to be able to hold his hand without getting sneered at by a couple of judgey old fogeys and Mrs. Grundys whose husbands are probably off doing worse things behind their backs!” 

Losing steam, he sags against the tree, “It’s just.... He’s a good guy Cagney, and I wish all of you would see that.”

After a modest pause, Cagney gently pats the rim of his head, “I hear you, Mugman,” He leans back down and meets his eyes, ”For what it’s worth, I can see he does treat you right. Heck, only a complete dimwit wouldn’t be able see how dizzy he is with you. I know your family knows this, and that’s all they need to know to support you two together. I oughta be able to do the same thing.”

Knowing this is the closest he’ll get to an apology, Mugman beams and affectionately bumps his nose against his, “Thanks, Cagney.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t tell him I ever said any of that, you hear?”

A small shriek echoes in the distance, drawing away Cagney’s attention.

“What was that?” Mugman asks worriedly. 

“Sounds like one of Goopy’s little nudniks are messing with the seedlings again,” Cagney grits his teeth, now razor sharp like the thorns suddenly adorning his body, “I’ll be back.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, this’ll be quick,” Cagney unfurls his body and begins to slither back into the woods, his petals sharply flowing back from the movement like a lion’s mane. Mugman can only hope Goopy’s nephews haven’t seriously hurt Cagney’s. Lord knows they don’t need their uncle spending days as a tombstone again.

Mugman is debating whether he should just follow or not when hands suddenly cover his eyes, followed by a playful voice that makes him giggle and smile.

“Guess who?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Noticing the days hurrying by  
>  When you're in love, my how they fly._


	3. Scene 2, I Can't Believe That You're in Love with Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I Can't Believe That You're in Love with Me - Bobby Darin (orig. Jimmy McHugh)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suUKVnH_kOI)   
>  _Your eyes of blue, your kisses too  
>  I never knew what they could do  
> I can't believe that you're in love with me_

The hands on his face are gentle-- their grasp easily escapable- but Mugman doesn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he rests his own hands over them, warmth in his cheeks and his voice.

“I thought you were busy today?”

He feels his boyfriend nuzzle the back of his neck and smile, “I had a little extra time. Not happy to see me?”

“I can’t see you at all!” 

Mugman grins when he hears him laugh and finally pulls away, turning back to drop a kiss against his cheek.

“Don’t laugh at that, Bendy. It was awful.”

Bendy flushes as he’s kissed, prompting Mugman to loop his arms around his neck and do it over and over again until Bendy titters and pulls at his handle, ink dripping past his eyes.

“Stop! I don’t want to stain you again,” he chuckles, teasingly holding Mugman at arms’ length.

Mugman pouts and playfully swipes at him, “I come from a family of tailors. If anyone knows how to deal with difficult stains, it’s us!”

“I think some gang members would disagree with that.”

“Oh, I assure you. My aunts know a thing or two about bloodstains too.”

The ink covering Bendy’s eyes starts to recede, his shoulders shaking in amusement. Mugman beams at the sight, lifting a hand to wipe away the traces of black from his cheeks.

“There you are,” he whispers lovingly.

Bendy turns his head to kiss his palm and shyly smiles back, “Here I am.”

“Why do you always forget to bring a towel?” chides Mugman.

“I didn’t think I’d need it. You’re the only one who makes me drip nowadays.”

“Oh really?” Mugman snickers. Bendy blinks rapidly when he realizes the implications of what he’d said.

“Cagney was right. You’re turning into a punk.”

Mugman pauses as he’s struck by a thought.

“How long have you been here?” he asks hesitantly. 

Knowing what he’s looking for, Bendy’s smile turns a little sadder and he shrugs, “...Long enough.”

So he’d heard everything. Mugman frowns and tries to move away, but Bendy expects this, so he quickly tugs him into his arms.

“It’s fine. You know I’m used to the comments,” Bendy hums against the rim of his head as Mugman burrows into the crook of his neck, “Nothing Cagney said is new to either of us and I know he just wants the best for you.”

“...But it wasn’t just him complaining,” Mugman mutters, kneading the front of Bendy’s shirt, “I know you heard what I said too.”

He feels Bendy clutch him just a bit tighter, “...I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Mugman steps back and immediately regrets it when he sees the look on Bendy’s face. He grabs his hands, squeezing his fingers in the same firm motion he has always done to comfort him, “I’ve told you before-- you don’t have to apologize for things that aren’t your fault!”

Bendy tilts his head and gives him that same bittersweet smile he’s grown frustratingly used to, “But this one is my fault, isn’t it? I’m the one who won’t let us be seen together in public.”

Mugman’s face falls and he looks away from him, “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to protect me,” He pouts, huffing, “But people should be used to you by now! You’ve lived here for six years!”

“You shouldn’t be sorry either,” Bendy pats his cheeks soothingly, “It’s not like Inkwell is the only place that hates demons. Having the Devil here just makes it worse.”

“And then you went ahead and started working for him too.”

Not again. Mugman isn’t the type to get riled up, but Bendy has always been different. He finds his foot in his mouth more often than he’d like whenever his demon’s concerned.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Now who’s apologizing too much?” Bendy doesn’t sound irritated. He never is, which makes Mugman feel even worse, “I mean, you’re not wrong. I didn’t do my reputation any wonders by working at the nightclub.”

“You know I’ve heard there’s a nightclub here too!” Mugman blurts out, “Cagney told me all about it. Why don’t you work there instead?”

Bendy shrugs and gives him a strained smile, “I know what you’re talking about. They say that place is a dive though. A real clip joint.”

“And the Devil’s isn’t?”

“No, but to their credit, it’s just as swanky as the casino,” Bendy sighs, “Plus, the club here prefers a _different_ kind of entertainment. One I’m pretty sure I can’t provide.”

Mugman crosses his arms, “...Why don’t you come work with us then?” 

The silence that follows is longer, thoughtful. It gnaws at Mugman and he starts to regret the turn in their conversation. Wishes he could go back and take a path less laden with thorns.

_I wonder when Cagney’s coming back,_ he thinks, and immediately decides that is even worse.

Thankfully, Bendy interrupts the flow of his thoughts.

“You told me not to apologize, so I won’t,” Bendy starts, “But I want you to know I didn’t leave because of any of you. In fact, Uncle Don was the one who helped me get the job at the _Devil’s Swing_ in the first place.”

Mugman startles when Bendy takes his hand again, lifting them up until he is staring back into his eyes. He is lost in the mess of emotions he finds.

“I can’t tell you why right now, but know this,” he continues, “Everything I did, I did it for you.”

Despite the apparent gravity of the situation, Mugman breaks into laughter when Bendy flushes bright red at the intensity of his own words. Still, he seems determined to keep rolling through his embarrassment, even as ink starts to drip back down his face again.

“W-will you come… Come see me at the club tonight? I want to show you something,” he stutters, pulling one of his hands away to try and wipe the ink off his face. 

Mugman bites his lip, filled with adoration at the familiar gesture. He laughs and throws his hands around his neck, even as Bendy tries to pull back to avoid dripping ink on his head.

“Of course, you goof!” 

They pause at the sound of rustling grass, Bendy flinching when they realize Cagney is coming back.

“Time to dangle.”

Mugman pulls off one of his gloves and hands it to Bendy, watching as he fights off the instinctive urge to refuse, “Tidy up with this. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” 

Bendy takes it, hesitates, then leans forward to peck him on the lips.

“Goodbye. I love you,” he murmurs, running off into the trees. Mugman presses his fingers to his lips and blows a kiss to his back.

“I love you too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And after all is said and done  
>  To think that I'm the lucky one  
> I can't believe that you're in love with me._
> 
> p.s. this isn't tagged as a crossover since bendy's the only character that's going to show up from batim.


	4. Scene 3, Glorious and Divine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Gangsterlove - Alice Francis](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_RvfQrNhiE)   
>  _He caught me with the sweetest lullaby,_  
>  He made me feel all glorious and divine  
> Invite me for a drink  
> Blues and tender swing... 

Even in the day, the Devil’s Casino thrives, hustling and bustling with regulars and newcomers alike. Elsie is one of the latter-- as prim and proper a girl as her mother raised her-- and so she finds herself frazzled the moment her  _ loving  _ boyfriend decides taking on one of the slot machines would be more fun than babysitting her.

Horse feathers. You’d think he’d know better than to leave a girl like her just standing around a dump like this.

With a huff, Elsie stomps away from the machines and heads to the least populated place she can find in the casino, which happens to be the bar. Although she’d like nothing more than to give her guy a taste of his own medicine, her mother instilled a good sense of fear in her, and she knows better than to gamble in the Devil’s territory.

It’s bad enough she let her boyfriend convince her to sneak out and come here.

Elsie nestles down on one of the pleasantly comfortable bar stools and crosses her arms on the table, peering around to watch for any suspicious figures. So far, there are a few older men with her, but they seem to be occupied with razzing each other or staring into their liquor like they’re trying to divine their fate in its reflection. She finds the bartender farther away, his back turned to her as he serves an older woman-- the two of them seemingly entrenched in a delightful conversation.

Lastly, she finds a couple on her other side, necking so fiercely that they’d likely be fined for public indecency if they were outdoors.

Blushing, Elsie drops her head into her arms and groans. 

_ I really,  _ **_really_ ** _ shouldn’t have come here. _

“Huh. Already jazzed? I don’t even remember giving you anything to drink.”

Elsie squeals, hopping in her seat at the unexpected voice. She looks up indignantly when she hears them laugh, but her breath catches in her throat when she is met with a cheeky smile and red rosy eyes.

_ Oh, what a sheik. _

The bartender’s grin seems to widen as if he can hear her thoughts, causing Elsie to flush and look away. Her tail frizzes behind her as she desperately tries to stuff it back under her skirt, all too aware of the way his eyes refuse to leave her.

“I’m not a drinker,” Elsie bites her lip when her voice comes out much higher than she’d like. Huffing at her own demeanor, she fixes a stern glare on him and trains her voice back to normal, “And you shouldn’t sneak up on a lady like that!” The bartender teasingly puts his hands up.

“My bad. Usually, the people I get around my bar either like to drink,” he nods towards the group of men, “or  _ like  _ to have me sneak up on them,” he winks and gestures to the woman he’d been serving, “So seeing as you don’t fit into either those, what exactly  _ are  _ you doing here?”

Reminded of the reason she’d come, Elsie glances back at the slot machines with her ears folded down.

“I’m on a date.”

He raises a brow at her tone, and leans forward to rest his head on his hand.

“I see. Well then, I’d like to meet the daisy that left a dame like you to hang around these boozehounds. I’m sure with a little chin music, he’ll start seeing sense.”

Elsie can’t stop herself from giggling, both from his words and the stupidly charming smirk he gives her. The glint in his eyes tells her he’s not talking about idle chatter.

“I’m flattered, but I’d rather not draw any more attention with a fight. My parents don’t know I’m here, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Oooh. How rebellious,” he purrs, “I like a girl with some fire in her.”

Elsie flushes, “N-now hold on, mister. My mother didn’t raise no chippy! Remember, I have a boyfriend!” she stutters.

She wonders if the words are more for him or for her.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he shrugs, “Especially with someone like you, kitten.”

If it had been any other guy, even her boyfriend, Elsie would have gotten real sore over the pet name. As it stands, he just keeps making her scramble to remember her morals.

“So, lady Jane. Fancy giving me your name or should I just keep calling you  _ mine  _ in my head?” 

_ Get out of here, Elsie. This is a losing battle. _

“Elsie,” she squeaks out, “My name is Elsie.”

He offers her a hand, chuckling when she takes it hesitantly, “Pleasure to meet you, Elsie. You can call me Cuphead.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

The moment she leaves, Cuphead lets malice creep into his smile. He flags down one of the skeleton workers and whispers into their ear.

“Keep an eye on that chick and her boytoy. Tell whoever’s manning the slots to tighten the screws on the guy until King can get to him. After that, he should get him running with the rats and the mice,” he mutters and pulls back.

The skeleton nods and Cuphead watches as he slinks off to the machines. He grins when Elsie peeks over at him, and teasingly waves his hand at her. She smiles back, oblivious to the demon she’d carelessly let privy to all her and her boyfriend’s worries and fears. 

_ Ah, what a sucker. _

He sees one of the Tipsy Troop approach him and stretches his arm up, “About time. You here to switch?”

Rum narrows his eyes, obviously straining to sober up just enough to answer him properly, “Yes...wait, no. No, not yet,” Cuphead rolls his eyes as he slowly continues, “S-someone’s  _ *hic*...  _ lookin’ for ya outside.”

“Is that so?” Cuphead replies and straightens up. He pulls off his apron and whips it at Rum, snickering when it catches on his nose and sends him sprawling backwards, “Then I guess you’re covering for me after all.”

He whistles, pleased when a nearby waiter immediately freezes and runs to him. Sauntering off, he points back at Rum’s prone body.

“Clean that up before he dies! Hiring good help’s a  _ bitch  _ nowadays.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _But finally one day,  
>  Roses fade away..._
> 
> yeah, sorry. the flirting only gets worse from here.


	5. Scene 4, After You Get What You Want...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [After You Get What You Want (You Don't Want It) - Kathy Brier (orig. Irving Berlin)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZEDM96cXtQ)  
>  _Listen to me, honey dear_  
>  Something's wrong with you I fear  
> It's getting harder to please you  
> Harder and harder each year...

The air outside the casino swelters- granite walls lit and licked by Hell’s ever burning flames. Jack wipes the sweat from his brow, hot even as ice crawls into his veins as the seconds tick by.

If things don’t turn out like he plans… he might as well start getting used to the heat.

Jack lifts his head as he hears the back door open, the muffled din of the casino sharply rising just before the doors slam shut again. He tenses at the sound of cracking joints but soon gathers the nerve to face his visitor.

Cuphead’s expression is frustratingly blank, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Who were you expecting?” Jack shoots back.

“Not that it should matter to you but,” Cuphead shrugs, “I have a list. Now what do you want? Deal didn’t work out the way you wanted it to, huh?”

“Sounds like you expected it not to.”

“People are rarely ever satisfied around here,” Rolling his shoulders, Cuphead offers him a sardonic smile, “Then again, it’s always a pleasure to deal with their  _ complaints _ .”

Jack meets his eyes and chills at the reflection of hellfire he finds. The first time they’d met, the bartender’s eyes had glowed with amusement, softened under the pale pink bar lights so that all he’d seen was his sought-after comfort. It was all too easy to crumble under those eyes and honeydew words. All too easy to believe in the myth that Hell was full of fallen angels.

Now, captured in that gaze, he knows more than ever that he is nothing but prey.

But even quarry fights back when it has nothing left to lose.

Cuphead raises an eyebrow when Jack whips out a gun and aims it between his eyes, “Well that was faster than I expected.”

“My sister is dead!” Jack spits out, incensed at the absolute apathy Cuphead continues to show him, “She was the only family I had left. You and your people knew this. You knew!  _ You promised me she’d get better! _ ”

“I don’t remember promising  _ jackshit _ ,” Cuphead grins cheekily at his own pun, “What I remember is lending you a couple hundred Cs for the treatment after you gave me your little orphan Annie sob story. Now what you did with that money was up to you. Not like I could stop you if you chose to blow it all on tricks and booze.”

Jack growls, “I’m nothing like you! That money all went to my sister, and you know it! We had a deal!”

“Christ, would you close your head for a second? I didn’t promise you she’d get better. I’m not some kind of fucking miracle worker.” Despite the vitriol in his words, Cuphead continues to give Jack a mockingly polite smile, “I lent you money in exchange for your soul, nothing more. You promised to pay us back once she was taken care of and,” he shrugs, “Well, I’m sure they’re taking good care of your sister up there.” 

Cuphead pauses, then sniggers, “‘Course if you want, I could still check in with the boss and see if any of the new girls down at the demon brothels matches her description. How’s that sound?”

The air cracks with a loud sound just as he finishes. 

Bright red stars fly out from Cuphead’s back, all of them swerving to catch the bullet heading for his eyes. It bursts into flames as they make contact and its trajectory shifts- the bullet crashing into the ground next to his feet.

Jack screams and pulls at the trigger again, arms shaking in rage and adrenaline. The back of his neck grows hotter as Cuphead continues to stand unflinchingly, the stars continuously blocking and shielding him until all that’s left of his bullets are the holes buried in the ground around them.

He freezes when an ominous ‘click’ comes from his gun.

Cuphead sighs and scratches the back of his neck, “If that was your idea of revenge, you’re an even bigger simp than I thought.”

_ What the hell was that?  _

Jack knew that Cuphead wasn’t normal. Nobody who works for the Devil is.

But that… that was inhuman.

“ _ You’re a demon _ ,” he gasps, still pointing the gun at Cuphead like a flimsy excuse for a shield.

“Aw shucks. Flattery won’t get you anywhere after that,” Cuphead cracks his neck, delighting in the horror he finds growing in Jack’s eyes as he saunters closer, “You’re wrong, but it’s a common mistake. I’d forgive you, but I don’t think you’ll find a single person alive who likes having someone try to kill them.”

.

.

.

Bartending is a hobby. Really, it’s more of a part-time job that King had forced him into. Cuphead would complain, but he finds it surprisingly enjoyable to stay out on the casino floor- mixing drinks and meeting new people.

(What he loves is the noise- loud, endless, chaotic, distracting. It wipes out the silence that torments his head when he is left alone to his thoughts, drowns out the crying he hears in his mind- a young and sweet voice that calls his name over and over and over again-)

But he knows what his calling is.

Cuphead is a debt collector.

_ A hunter. _

He sees the fear and panic fester in Jack’s eyes and can barely stop himself from laughing, the rush never-ending. He curls his fingers just as Jack bends his knees, clearly about to turn tail and run, but stops when he feels the jeweled chain around his handle pulse and tighten.

_ Tch.  _ There goes his fun.

Cuphead drops the grin on his face and steps back from Jack, crossing his arms behind him. He watches as King Dice rises from a portal behind Jack and chuckles when the confusion on his face is again replaced with trepidation when King lays a hand on his shoulder.

“Do accept my apologies, sir. Our employee here can be a bit of a hothead,” King’s voice is ripe with sympathy- full of the false charm and empathy Cuphead had been taught to use himself when first dealing with patrons. The tremors wracking Jack’s body begins to lessen, and his heart slows its rapid thumping.

Cuphead closes his eyes, unable to hide the mirth in them.

“Pardon me for interrupting but an employee had grown concerned when they heard the sound of gunshots from outside,” King’s eyes flit to the gun still hanging limply from Jack’s hands, “Now what seems to be the problem?”

There’s a period of silence among them as Jack hesitates, the gun slipping from his hands and onto the ground as King squeezes his shoulder and offers him a sympathetic smile.

_ Go on, you bozo. I don’t know how you managed to live long enough to be this stupid.  _ The edge of Cuphead’s mouth turns up at his own thoughts.

“...He lied to me,” Jack whispers. He looks up at Cuphead, remnants of his fear washed away by the reminder of his sister and the assurance of having the manager behind him, “I promised him my soul for my sister but he didn’t save her at all! She still died!”

“I didn’t promise him anything,” Cuphead interjects, tone more formal in the face of his employer, “He asked for help to pay for her treatment and so I lent him the money. There was no guarantee that it would save her.”

“What kinda heartless monster are you!” Jack lashes out, held back by King’s hand on his shoulder, “She was only a kid, she didn’t belong in that fucking hospital bed where our parents left her!” Tears hot on his cheeks, he shrugs King off and lunges at Cuphead, pulling him up by lapels of his vest, “I’d have given up the world if it meant saving her, don’t you understand that?!  _ Don’t you have anyone in your life you ever cared about like that?!” _

For only a moment, Cuphead hears an echo of his own voice trail after Jack’s.

**_[“...what I’ve got on the line is worth more than your sob stories and my own damn soul combined.”]_ **

His eyes widen, then narrow fiercely.

“That’s enough,” King Dice pulls Jack away just as Cuphead starts to lift his hand up, “Now that I understand the situation, allow me to cut you a new deal.”

“What?” 

“We can bring your sister back to life.”

Jack looks back at him, brittle hopes in his eyes.

“You can do that?” he mutters, voice fragile. Behind them, Cuphead tugs down his vest, his face shadowed.

“Of course,” King Dice smiles, “How do we expect to attract more patrons if the house doesn’t treat its guests with the fairness and respect they deserve? Now, you’d still have to give us your soul, but surely having your sister back is worth it?”

“Yes!” Jack cries out immediately, “Anything.  _ Anything _ .”

“Very well,” King Dice strides up to the doors and holds it open for him, bowing low at the waist, “Now if you’d just follow me into the office, we can get started on rewriting your original contract.”

Jack walks in without any hesitation, desperation written in every bone of his body. Cuphead remains still and lets him walk past the door, just as King Dice straightens up and meets his eyes.

He nods and Cuphead raises his arm and snaps. 

A violet bullet whizzes past the doors and buries itself straight into Jack’s heart. 

They hear him whimper, a soft sound of shock and pain torn from his throat as he touches the bleeding, smoking hole. 

His body shudders… and he drops to the ground.

Cuphead throws his head back and finally lets himself laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ You're always wishing  
> And wanting for something  
> When you get what you want  
>  **You don't want what you get!** _
> 
> rip mr. jack hammer. ~~shouldn't have been so greedy.~~  
>  out of all the songs i've used, this one's my favorite. it's so upbeat in comparison to the chapter (◡‿◡✿)


	6. Scene 5: I Don't Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I Don't Care - Eartha Kitt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RH255esw-OI)   
>  _I don't care what the gossips may say_  
>  I don't care they can gammor all day  
> If they dare try to get in my way  
> They're aware I don't care what they say 

_ BANG! _

Chips chokes as the door to the break room slams open. He stuffs his hip flask down his boot, and hurriedly wipes away the trail of vodka from his chin before turning to the door with a cheeky smile, ready with another excuse to escape King Dice’s wrath.

Much to his relief, he finds Cuphead there instead.

“Ha, gave me a fright there Cupface! Fer a moment I thought you were the boss!” Chips’ grin dips when Cuphead simply ignores him and heads straight for the couch, lounging back with his feet on the armrest, “Hey, don’t go tracking dirt on the furniture now. You know the others are gonna complain again.”

“They can go jump in a lake. I don’t give a damn,” Cuphead tilts his head back to stare dully at Chips and makes a grabbing motion with his hand. 

Knowing what he’s after, Chips rolls his eyes and retrieves his flask, tossing it over to him, “If you get in a fight with the others again, King is really gonna give you an earful. Ya just barely got out of trouble this week. You really wanna test your luck again?”

Cuphead empties the entire flask and throws it back before answering him, “I’m a growing boy, Chips. Got a lot of pent-up aggression, and since  _ King’s  _ not letting me take it out on debtors or the patrons...” His voice turns sour at the mention of their boss, “I’m just gonna have to play rough with the staff instead.”

“Listen, I’m not gonna stop you if you wanna screw around with the new guys, but you know you can’t fight with any of the senior members,” Chips walks over and drops down into the seat across him, “You gotta remember we’re your partners, and we’re all you really got around here. You don’t mess with family, Cuphead.”

Despite his words, Chip keeps his tone light, not wanting to provoke his co-worker any further. Out of all the other original pit bosses, he’s the closest one to a best friend Cuphead has, so he’s privy to many of his secrets and tantrums. It’s why the others come to him whenever they have any complaints about his behavior. He knows how volatile his temper is, so he switches the topic before Cuphead can steam up and shut him down.

“So you’ve heard of the nightclub, right?”

Cuphead takes the bait. “What about it?”

“It’s going great! Took a little while to drum up business, but ever since they hired that new guy, it’s been making just as much money as the casino. Probably even more!”

“New guy?”

“Yeah, a performer. I don’t remember his name, gotta ask Pirouletta about that, but she says he’s a hell of a dancer, and that’s high praise coming from her,” Chips grins when he sees Cuphead start to look more curious, “Not only that, but the guy’s got pipes. He just started working there a few weeks ago and he’s already considered the star attraction in that place. King gave him his own band and everything.”

Cuphead’s face darkens at the reminder of their boss, “Good for him.” He grunts when Chips throws an arm around his shoulder.

“Anyway, how’s about you and I head over there tonight?”

Cuphead mulls it over. Hearing that Pirouletta, with her ridiculous standards, actually liked the dancer at the nightclub does make him a little curious, but he’s never been that interested in performance arts. He lives for the thrill in the gambling section, delights in the cocktail of false elation and bottomless despair that haunts its walls with every patron that they trick and tempt into giving up their soul. But lately, the casino had been experiencing a downturn of customers, which meant less contract deals, and less prey for him to hunt.

He hadn’t lied. Seeing Jack earlier was a real pleasure after so many weeks without a hunt. He’d poked and prodded at all the man’s buttons, determined to rile him up and give himself a nice treat, but King’s interruption had wasted his efforts.

A quick kill’s only fun for a little while.

“I’m not interested in dancing,” he replies eventually, ducking under Chips’ arm to look for more alcohol. He knows Phear Lap has an expensive stash hidden somewhere in the break room for whenever he’s won a race. Thankfully the derby announcer rarely ever wins his own bets, so it’ll be a long time before he notices his bottles go missing.

Chips drops his hand and groans, “We’re not gonna go there to dance, Cupface. I’m not taking you out on a date!” He peers over the couch to watch Cuphead rifle through a secret compartment in the wall, “We’re gonna gussy up and find yourself a dame!”

Cuphead lets out a harsh bark of laughter, “I’m not interested in  _ dancing _ ,” he repeats, “And I don’t need your help finding dames. I was just talking to one earlier.”

“Trying to grift her for her soul, not her skirts,” Chips snorts. He conjures a tiny sculpture of a lady made of casino chips on the dresser next to Cuphead, the figure swaying its hips enticingly as he waggled his eyebrows, “If you ask me, all that aggression is caused by hormones. You said it yourself- you’re a growing boy. You’re nearly 21 and I haven’t even seen you kiss a girl! Just come take a gander with me tonight and I reckon you’ll have a swell time!”

Cuphead rests his hip against the dresser, drink in hand as he takes in the little sculpture beside him.

Truthfully, what Chips is suggesting is forbidden to him. For as long as he could remember, King Dice had vehemently ordered him never to form any romantic or sexual attachments to anyone. Flirting was fine, but only as a strategy. 

It was an easy rule to follow. Though he’d been chased and courted by multiple women (and even some men) for the past few years, none of them had ever thrilled him in the same way ‘debt collecting’ did. 

(None ever inspired the  intense, ridiculous, unwanted feelings he held for the voice in his dreams.)

Chips obviously doesn’t know this if he’s so eager to take Cuphead with him. He’d warn the guy, but honestly? 

King Dice could go fuck himself tonight.

He takes a swig of Phear Lap’s favorite wine, “Fine. I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I don't care what the people are saying_  
>  I will still carry on this way  
> Let them jeer let them rant and rave  
> I'm still here if I misbehave 
> 
> no illustration for this chapter, sorry! i'm going to start picking out chapters to illustrate from now on, especially since one may be heavily illustrated soon. it'll let me update faster too.


End file.
